


luv luv

by datalaur



Series: Deus ex Machina [7]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: AU after Generations, Caretaking, Consensual Sex, Developing Relationship, Enemies, Fluff and Smut, Food Issues, M/M, Manhandling, Massage, Misunderstandings, Physical Disability, Protectiveness, Romance, Sleepy Cuddles, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:47:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22417192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/datalaur/pseuds/datalaur
Summary: Working out the kinks in a new relationship takes time.  Also, the existential horror of avocado.Set in 2371 at the Daystrom annex, a few months afterGenerationsand not long afterThe Observer EffectandGolden Rules!
Relationships: Data & Geordi La Forge, Data/Bruce Maddox, Geordi La Forge & Bruce Maddox
Series: Deus ex Machina [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595050
Kudos: 3





	luv luv

**Author's Note:**

> _luv luv, luv luv  
>  Say you will be mine  
> And love me, love me, love me  
> All of the time  
> Treat me wrong, that's all right  
> Just give me a little more  
> Of what you did tonight  
> Let's take a risk  
> We'll do it your way  
> Taste the sweet smell of danger  
> When I hear you say  
> luv luv, luv luv  
> Say you won't just forget  
> The way you take me, take me  
> Over the edge  
> Make your move, turn that dial  
> Let me touch the only thing that  
> Shows me I'm alive  
> Don't be afraid now  
> I'm talking to you  
> Don't you know it's time to  
> Go go go go go!  
> luv luv, luv luv  
> Say you will be mine  
> _  
> \-- Devo, _"[luv luv](https://youtu.be/cDxAVEscOmA)"_

It's been an incredible day off, for all that they never left Data's quarters in the visitors' section. They've made love half a dozen different ways and Data is tireless, and better yet merciless, when it comes to giving pleasure. Data has just had him against a wall forwards and backwards, and after that Bruce can't so much as hold his head up.

Data tosses him onto the bed roughly, because that's how they've been playing lately. Bruce chuckles exhaustedly because he's just thought of a new way to feed the serious manhandling kink he's come down with. Being stripped, tossed, and soundly fucked definitely needs to go on the agenda.

Bruce had always felt ashamed at getting off on the feeling of helplessness, the arousing idea that a lover could do anything to him. But with Data, the reality is that the android's so much stronger that he actually could do anything. 

Thinking of Data so desperate with desire that he's getting aggressive... _mmmmm_.

"You are practically purring," Data teases, and rolls Bruce from his side onto his back.

"Mmmmhmmm." Bruce smiles up at his lover, eyes heavy-lidded with satiation and sleepiness. He pats the bed with languid fingers. "C'mere."

"You are a mess. Let me-"

"Don't care." He rolls back onto his side and yawns.

It is late and not worth disagreeing, even though Data suspects his fastidious lover will regret that decision later. Data slips on his pajamas and spoons himself behind his lover. He settles the light covers loosely over their bodies.

"Computer, set sleep environment." His own thermal output considered, Data's preliminary research indicates that Bruce sleeps best at 14°C, 13% lighting, 24 dBA white noise.

"Night," Bruce murmurs sleepily, snuggling back against Data. He threads his clumsy fingers through Data's as best he can, tugging their joined right hands up to kiss Data's palm, then sliding their hands downward, where Data usually anchors his fingers between Bruce's lower ribs and the bed. Being held so snugly in Data's strong arms makes him feel safe. Loved. Protected. Like he can just let go of the day's failures, and not have to worry about tomorrow's.

Data is thinking about luck, and the fragility of the human pressed against him. The curve of his arm encompasses Bruce's reconstructed ribcage, numerous cloned organs, and the reassuring metronome of Bruce's artificial heart: all reminders that if events on Eldaran II had transpired even slightly differently, Bruce would have died, as pointlessly as Ensign Harkins had died. As pointlessly as Tasha had died, years ago.

Please do not copy or repost without permission.  
Artist: [drawsmaddy](https://drawsmaddy.tumblr.com/)

Counselor Troi has said the present is what Data should focus on. She said no one can prevent all the bad things that happen, not even Data. It seems obvious when said like that, but it always seems to Data as if there must have been something he could have done. The counselor said it serves no purpose to wallow in what might have been. She had given similar advice after Ohniaka III, and after his incapacitation on Armagosa Station, and then the saucer section's crash. 

How had all his friends and crewmates survived Veridian III? The saucer's structural integrity should have failed on impact. Every single one of the crew should have died on that planet, just as Bruce should have died in that frozen cave.

Was their survival just luck? Perhaps fate, if such a thing exists. 

Data recalls reviewing bridge logs and recordings after the Iconian incident. Something Commander Riker had said, when the ship escaped destruction purely by chance, has reverberated for Data ever since: "Fate protects fools, little children, and ships named _Enterprise_." He cannot deny that they have been uncommonly fortunate. 

There is not enough information to determine a conclusive answer and in the end, Data can only do his best. It may not be enough, but it will have to suffice.

Sighing, Data deliberately puts fear, guilt and regret away and refocuses on the here-and-now. Whether it is fate, or luck and chance that have brought Data to this instant, to this man in his arms, he will not waste what time they have. 

So Data closes his eyes and just savors the moment. It is so pleasant to lay spooned together like this. As much as Data has been enjoying the ecstasies of sex, he finds the simple, quiet intimacies inherent in living and sleeping together to be deeply satisfying. 

Bruce yawns mightily. "Computer, set alarm zero-five-thirty."

"Computer, reset alarm to eight hundred hours." Data squeezes lightly, and nuzzles a kiss into his lover's messy dark hair. "We have no obligation until nine." 

They have plans to meet Geordi -- just returning from having his VISOR replaced by cybernetic implants -- for early brunch, at the cafe by the arboretum. Afterwards, Data will fulfill his promise to Keiko to obtain holo-images of the rarer specimens.

"Fine," Bruce grumbles halfheartedly, then sighs out a deep breath. He rubs the side of his face into the pillow. 

Data feels his lover's body relax against his own. He is pleased that their exertions have once again proven an excellent soporific.

As his lover dozes off, he notices Bruce's feet slowly rubbing together; Data had been intrigued to find out that it is a common self-comfort habit among humans. He has observed that Bruce typically exhibits one or more unconscious behaviors: stretching his limbs, flexing his shoulders or toes, sighing, or rubbing his face against the pillow before slumbering. 

His lover's nightly self-soothing mechanisms remind him of the way Spot used to knead peacefully before sleep. She at least had never had any issue with insomnia. He recalls Spot liked long slow caresses, and a hand resting on her flank, just as Bruce does. He even sleep-twitches, as Spot did, and Data suspects for the same reason. 

Data slides a leg over Bruce's and waits patiently for the myoclonus. Bruce is nearing the end of the initial first-stage sleep, and most nights that is when the involuntary twitching starts.

As the first of the hypnic jerks begins, Data uses his encircling arm and the weight of his leg to suppress the effects. A series of particularly strong muscle contractions rouses his sleeping lover enough to lift his cheek from the pillow. 

"Shhhhh," Data murmurs softly, and Bruce subsides back into slumber. 

For all that myoclonus is normal and quite common among humans, Data finds the spasms unsettling, unlike the provocative involuntary twitching Bruce often manifests during and after sex. Regardless, the hypnic jerks can interfere with Bruce's generally poor sleep quality and Data is determined to minimize them. 

Data ponders anew on ways to convince Bruce to further cut his caffeine intake without raising his stress levels. He decides to instead offer magnesium-rich foods. 

After a final twitch of the shoulders, the cyberneticist sighs, shifts a hip and then rhythmically rubs his feet together. His breathing and heart rate even out again, then slow. His body temperature begins to fall more rapidly with the onset of stage two sleep. Soon he will have his first REM of the night.

Data initiates his own sleep mode.

*****

The full-body hypnic jerk is strong enough that it startles them both to instant wakefulness. Bruce is disoriented, sweating, gasping, his heart pounding. He surges up onto an elbow, and looks blindly around the room. 

"Shhhhh, Bruce." Data's hands are warm and reassuring. "Everything is fine. Go back to sleep."

"But-"

"You were only dreaming. It is all right." Data tugs at his trembling lover, guiding him back down into the spoon. He wraps his arms around him reassuringly.

Bruce tells himself to get a grip already. Data's right, it was only a dream. The disjointed images have already faded, but the horrible sensation of falling makes him think that maybe it was the shuttle crash. He doesn't actually remember any of it, and Data doesn't like to, so it's not something they ever talk about. 

Being securely held helps with the adrenaline shakes; surely in a few minutes he'll be able to get back to sleep. There's nothing to be anxious about. Data would never let anything bad happen. It's safe.

The problem is that his mind won't shut off; it keeps coming up with worrisome what-ifs. Even if he didn't mind Data finding out he needs medication to sleep all night like a normal person, it's too close to morning to use anything. Bruce squeezes his eyes shut and tries to keep perfectly still on the off chance Data's gone back to asleep, although he's pretty sure he's hasn't. 

Ugh, he feels kind of sticky. And a little crusty. He sniffs gingerly. Oh, terrific, he can even smell himself. Data probably thinks he reeks. He wishes he had washed up earlier, when Data tactfully hinted that he needed it. 

Finally Bruce sighs. It feels early, but maybe it's close enough to sunrise that Data won't object too much if he gets up for a shower. Maybe he can even check on a few things in the lab. "Computer, time?"

"The time is 0437."

"You require more rest," Data chides gently. 

_I require more fucking coffee_ , Bruce thinks irritably, because he knows Data will give him that look if he gets out of bed for caffeine. 

Well. Sleep aids are out, coffee's out, and it's apparent that getting anything useful done is out. He sighs with annoyance. It is Sunday, so he supposes he can afford to slack a little before he has to deal with being nice to La Forge. 

Maybe he could distract himself with getting Data off, if Data's not too grossed out by his stink. 

"Data, I can't sleep right now. Maybe we could do something to relax?" He slips his good hand just inside Data's waistband, letting it rest on Data's warm smooth belly. He wiggles his fingers lightly, offering. 

Data swiftly removes his pajamas, then slides an arm over his lover's waist. Effortlessly he pulls Bruce closer, trapping the cyberneticist's hand between them, and releases some lubricant. Bruce begins to manually stimulate him between their increasingly slick abdomens. 

It feels very good. Data notices that Bruce is avidly watching him. Fair enough; Data likes to watch too. "Computer, lights one third." 

Data uses his free hand to cup the back of Bruce's head and pull him into a hard kiss. Bruce's mouth yields eagerly to his probing tongue, just as it does for his penis. Data's eyes slit with pleasure as he remembers hearing his lover's muffled moans as he ejaculated into Bruce's insatiable mouth. He can even detect lingering traces of his earlier release. 

"Your mouth tastes of me," Data says huskily, his vocal frequencies adjusted lower. With a thrill of power, he watches his lover's pupils dilate in involuntary response. Winding his fingers in Bruce's hair, he exerts a careful amount of force to bring their mouths back together for long, deep kisses.

Before long Data puts his hand over Bruce's to slow the pace, so that he is thrusting into their doubled grip. Data likes the extra sensation of occasionally rubbing himself against the dark line of hair below Bruce's navel. 

Bruce nudges Data, who promptly rolls on top of him, pushing a thigh up between his. The pressure on his balls feels particularly great. He loves the feel of Data's solid weight on him, the way it restricts his ability to move. That Data's gripping his hair and holding him in place and even controlling his hand is blowing Bruce's mind and they've barely started. As they kiss, he grabs his own handful of Data's hair to let him know _don't stop_.

But Data does, all too soon, breaking the kiss and raising himself up on a forearm. Still, seeing Data gazing down at him so intently makes Bruce twitch with pleasure. 

"May I irrumate your navel?" Data asks. When his lover's brow furrows in confusion, Data decides using the vernacular will be more conducive to the moment. "I want to fuck your belly button."

Bruce blinks twice, then smiles. Soong must have been seriously kinky if _this_ is the sort of thing he programmed into Data. "By all means." 

Data decides he will wipe that amused smirk right off his lover's face. He shifts to straddle Bruce's hips, leaning forward so he can maintain his grip on his lover's hair. He half-pulls half-supports Bruce's head in position so he will be able to watch what Data is doing. 

Using Bruce's hand, he strokes himself from base to tip, enjoying the way the human's eyes fasten on their joined hands moving on his fully engorged penis. He leans forward so that his glans slides wetly across Bruce's abdomen and catches in the small indentation. He rubs it slowly around, smearing the fluid thoroughly before pushing in lightly. 

"Um, Data... could you let go of my hair? Thanks." Bruce massages his scalp for a moment. "You know I love it when you do that, but a little goes a long way, all right?" 

"My apologies. I will be more circumspect."

"Really, it's fine." Bruce grabs the wedge pillow and jams it behind his neck. Settling in for a show, he tucks his bad hand behind his head, and offers the other to Data. 

"Are you finding this arousing?" 

"You haven't steered me wrong yet. Go for it." 

Data leans forward again, supported on one forearm. He kisses Bruce as he rotates his hips lightly, then begins rhythmically pressing his glans into Bruce's wet navel while he uses their joined hands to fist his penis. 

And somehow it gets hotter than Bruce would have ever thought: not the belly button thing per se, but watching Data using his body for pleasure. He says as much to Data, who shifts position slightly so he can reach back with his free hand to stroke Bruce to full hardness before impaling himself. The move is familiar, one of the thankfully-unspoken accommodations Data makes for his disability. Bruce watches spellbound as Data thrusts into his belly button while sliding himself back and forth onto Bruce's cock. 

Soon it's all begging as Data edges him mercilessly. Even after Data groans and splatters his belly, chest and face, the android doesn't take him over the edge. Data leaves Bruce desperate, hips prisoned by Data's weight as he tries ineffectually to thrust upward into his lover. 

Before he knows it, Bruce is flipped face down and getting excruciatingly slow-fucked, the iron bar of Data's forearm supporting his weak hip. His head is turned to the side, the fingertips on the back of his neck a tactile reminder that Data expects him to stay put. His breath stutters as Data alternates between nipping his ear, tongue-fucking it, and whispering incendiarily filthy clinical descriptions of the way Bruce's body reacts to being used. 

Bruce is so close to finishing that he cries out when Data pulls out abruptly. He is rolled over into his back, and his legs kneed apart so Data can kneel between. He wraps his good leg around Data's thigh, trying to pull him in closer, but Data only puts a splayed hand on his chest, making Bruce wait while Data massages the tense muscles of his reconstructed hip to reduce the risk of spasms interrupting their lovemaking.

Before long Data shoves the wedge pillow under his pelvis, tipping it upward. Bruce can wrap both legs around Data now, and everything beside need fades away under the next onslaught of sensation. His hands grip Data's hair while Data torments him by kissing him breathless while fucking him with constantly changing angles and depths. It's so good and he needs just a little more to come. 

"Please, please," is all he can manage. 

Data shakes his head as his lover squirms and clenches on his penis. 

"Wait," Data tells his lover, even as his own body urgently demands release. "Stop and focus. Feel how good this is."

Bruce stills obediently, his chest heaving.

Data rolls his hips forward, then back. "You are so eager for me. So wet inside from my semen. So tight. So perfect." He closes his eyes as he rolls in and out twice, then sinks deep and stays there. "I can feel your heartbeat surrounding my penis. Right now your pulse is so strong. So fast." 

Pulling out partway, he takes Bruce's hand, and leads it to where they are joined. He guides his lover's fingertip in tracing the taut edge of the dripping wet, stretched opening. Data murmurs, "Feel how your body accepts me. Feel how we fit together. We are perfect."

"Please." Bruce can't help but squirm from the sensation of their fingers, from how Data's thick, throbbing cock feels even only partly in. He shifts his hand to cup Data's balls, and rocks his pelvis up. "Data, please. Fuck me."

"Be _still_." 

Data's unexpected command holds enough bite that Bruce's body involuntarily clenches hard. He smiles apologetically up at his lover, but is struck by the predatory look on Data's face. An electric jolt of recognition hits him. _Data is not playing._ He twitches helplessly. It's too much. 

"Data-" he warns, but then Data has hold of him, squeezing him hard with thumb and forefinger, just below the head so that he's forced back from the edge again.

"You will not come until I allow it," Data says matter of factly. He shifts his grip to encompass his lover's penis and testicles, and applies slow, carefully calculated pressure. He leans forward with hips canted, pressing himself as deeply as possible. "In fact, I may not let you come at all."

Bruce is caught between exquisite humiliation and desire. Data is looming over him implacably, shoved so deep, squeezing his balls. The combined sensations of all that are like nothing he's ever felt before. He is suddenly and acutely aware of how wantonly his body is positioned, how utterly vulnerable he is. Data could do anything to him. 

Anything.

 _Hours_ of anything. 

Bruce swallows convulsively and puts his hands over his head, wrists crossed in mute appeal. He doesn't know exactly what Data's about to do to him, but he knows it's going to be amazing.

Data has to smile fondly at the naive offering of submission; he appreciates the implicit trust, but suspects Bruce has not even begun to think through the ramifications of his broad sexual programming and multiple techniques. Data will need to remedy that, beginning with a thorough discussion of limits, but it will keep.

He lays his fingertips on Bruce's offered wrists. "For now, I expect you to control yourself. You will not move unless I tell you to do so. You will not presume to tell me what to do--"

"Omigod _yes_ , do anything you want, Data, _anything_ ," Bruce burbles.

Data would have slapped him hard enough to sting, had they negotiated such behavior, but instead Data lays his forefinger across Bruce's lips. 

"Are you done now?" His lover looks adorably confused, so Data clarifies, "Do I have your full attention?"

"Oh. Yes, Data." 

" _Do not_ interrupt me again. Now, as I was saying. You will not presume to tell me what to do, unless you are physically or emotionally uncomfortable with something I am doing. In that case I expect you to promptly and clearly communicate your discomfort to me so that we can resolve the issue. You will not disregard your discomfort in a misguided attempt to please me.

"At any time you may use the word 'red' and all activity will immediately cease. Alternatively, if you are unable to speak, you may tap three times anywhere on my body or on any surface and all activity will immediately cease. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Data."

"I do not want anything from you that you are not completely willing to give. Let me say that again. _I do not want anything from you that you are not completely willing to give_. Are we perfectly clear on that point, Bruce?"

"Yes, Data." He gets that Data's extra particular about consent, because of course he is. Maybe now they can get on with the ravishing? 

"Good. On your stomach now." 

Bruce does as he's told. He waits, eyes closed, jittery with excitement. When fingertips trail down Bruce's back, butt, hip, thigh, his breath starts shuddering in anticipation. He bites his lip so he doesn't forget he's supposed to be silent.

"Stay. I will be back momentarily."

He can hear Data in the bathroom for a moment, then talking softly in the other room, he guesses to the replicator. That seems very promising.

Data comes back in, wearing his robe. Carrying a plate and a glass of some white liquid. He sets it down on the bed table and says, "Sit up. Eat. Computer, raise room temperature to 22°C." 

Okay, that's not at all what he was hoping for, but Bruce is certainly willing to obey. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed while Data climbs in behind him and starts massaging his shoulders with some sort of cinnamony-smelling oil that warms his skin. 

Bruce picks up the glass and surreptitiously sniffs it. Almond milk. He likes that well enough, so he takes a sip. Data kisses his ear while using his thumbs to massage the musculature at the base of Bruce's skull.

The plate holds different kinds of nuts, various seeds, two squares of dark chocolate, four slices of banana. Those all seem okay. But then there is a small heap of some sort of green leaves, topped with slimy cubes of yellow-green. 

Avocado. On greens. It's a test. 

He doesn't have any idea how Data knows, but it's clear Data is calling his bluff, testing how willing Bruce actually is to submit to him.

While Data works on his neck and shoulders, Bruce buys time by picking through the seeds and nuts one by one. Most of them taste okay. He doesn't much like the big white and brown nuts but there are only two, and each goes down easily enough with the banana as chaser. The chocolate he knows he needs to save for last. 

"Relax," Data murmurs in his ear. "You are much too tense."

Bruce pokes discreetly at the plate. Five leaves. Six chunks of slime.

He can do this. He was eight when survival training taught him that when he's hungry enough, he will eat whatever there is and he had better keep it down, because it tastes worse the second time. Grass. Leaves. Bugs. Eventually, flesh and organs of animals he has killed with his own hands. 

So. Five leaves. Six chunks. It's nothing. It's just the texture and the memories that are the problem, but he can handle that.

He bundles a piece of avocado inside torn bits of leaf, and pushes the nauseating mixture of fiber and goo as far back past his tongue as possible, so he can try to swallow it without chewing. 

He chokes a little on the fourth bundle and Data pats him on the back until it clears. Data hands him the almond milk and he gratefully washes the disgusting mess down.

"Are you all right?" Data asks. Bruce has always seemed unusually finicky about his food, but these behaviors are odder than normal. Perhaps the need to inspect food for suitability is another way his lover is like Spot. 

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You are certain?"

"Yes, Data. I want to eat it."

Bruce finishes the last two bundles of filth with the aid of the almond milk. He sets the empty glass carefully on the plate and eats his chocolate with a deep sense of victory. It's kind of funny to think that after all these years, his dad's training has finally paid off.

After he's finished, Data has him lie down on the bed again, so he can massage Bruce's full back and buttocks. Data kneels astride his thighs. Between the rubdown and the penetrating warmth of the cinnamon massage oil, Bruce decides that even if he hasn't done well enough on the test to earn sex, this still feels pretty damn good.

*****

Long before Data finishes his feet, Bruce has dozed off. Data covers him with a light blanket and steps away to put the dish and glass in the recycler. It is 0618 but after working so hard to relax his high-strung lover, Data decides he will go back to bed. He does not want Bruce to wake up alone and anxious. 

After leaving a message for Geordi, requesting to move brunch to 1300, Data has the computer reset the environmentals back to sleep. 

He climbs carefully back in the bed and under the blanket, but his caution proves unnecessary. Bruce is deep in REM, still sleeping on his stomach. So far as Data can tell, Bruce has not so much as twitched a muscle since the massage. Data congratulates himself on that tactic, as well as the success of magnesium rich dietary supplementation. He will be certain to offer such items frequently. 

Data turns on his side so he is facing his lover, and slips his hand under the blanket. He lays his palm gently on Bruce's back. He can hear his lover's breaths and heartbeat, but feeling them for himself is better. 

As he watches Bruce's eyes dart back and forth under closed lids, he can smell the increase in pheromones that indicate Bruce is becoming aroused. However, Data knows erection is typical for human males during REM sleep, and as pleasant as it is to suppose Bruce is dreaming of him, the arousal likely has nothing to do with his presence. Data briefly considers masturbating, but decides instead on a short-format sleep program. Sex can wait until they are both ready to enjoy it.

*****

Bruce wakes up gradually. At first all he knows is that it's so comfortable, so warm, that he dozes back off. 

The second time he startles awake, with a terrible sense of being very late for work. Wait, not work, it's brunch today with La Forge. But Data is there, cuddled close to his side, just waking up too. Bruce relaxes and lets his eyes close again. Data wouldn't oversleep. 

"Good morning," Data murmurs in his ear.

Bruce rolls towards him and devours the sight of the most gorgeous man in the quadrant. Data's hair is a sexy mess; Bruce recalls running his hands through it and hanging on for dear life while Data pounded him. He's already half-hard and the memory does the rest.

"I love that your autonomic nervous system dilates your pupils when you are pleased to see me," Data says, then smiles. "This is a fairly good indicator as well." He brushes his fingers along Bruce's erection.

"Hold that thought," Bruce says. If they're going to have sex, he doesn't want it to be on a full bladder. "Be right back." 

Bruce limps over to the adjoining bathroom. While he cleanses his teeth, waiting for his body to relax enough to go, he takes a look in the mirror. His hair is sticking up everywhere. His skin is a nasty mix of dried lube, come, and massage oil. He thinks he looks pretty well ravaged, to tell the truth, and it makes him grin at his reflection. 

Still, he's definitely in need of a haircut and a shave. Bruce hastily takes care of the latter, then as he tucks the blue shaving cube back in his travel toiletries kit, he notices the antidepressants, and hesitates. No. He doesn't need the pills, or the side effects on his libido.

When he emerges from a quick sonic shower, Data is in a robe, just bundling up the used bedding for disposal in the recycler. Naked aside from a towel slung low on his hips, Bruce follows him out and stops by the replicator for coffee. He knows Data disapproves, but there are just too many times that he needs a caffeine kick to function. 

"Are you hungry?" Data asks.

Bruce is, but he's not an idiot. Who knows what he'll have to eat to prove himself next time? "No, thanks, I'll wait for brunch." Speaking of which, he wonders if they still have time for sex. "Computer, time?"

"The time is 0934."

Data holds up a hand. "Do not worry. I have rescheduled with Geordi for thirteen hundred. You were sleeping so well that I did not wish to disturb you."

"Thanks." Bruce hesitates. He doesn't really want to have to ask, but faint heart and all that. "Do we have time to go back to bed?" 

Data smiles, and plucks the half full coffee cup out of his hand before Bruce can react. "We will make time."

Bruce can't really complain about losing his coffee though. Getting stripped, tossed and fucked is better than he had imagined. 

*****

Above him, Bruce looks ready to collapse, so Data rolls to his right and guides his lover down to the mattress. 

"Wait, wait," Bruce says. "Could you stay in me?"

Data shifts quickly to spoon behind his lover, and gripping Bruce's hip, he slides home again. He wraps an arm around the cyberneticist, and leans to kiss his ear. "Better?"

"Mmmmhmmm."

They lay like that for a while, quietly recovering. Bruce is starting to doze off, but then squeezes their entwined fingers.

"Data?"

"Yes?"

"I think I get what you were talking about last night. The way it feels when you're in me, like now, not just when we're making love. How good we feel to each other. The way we fit together so perfectly." He chuckles a little. "I was too distracted last night to hear you properly."

"It is all right. It was unfair of me to expect you to be able to concentrate just then."

"I know it's too soon, and I'm not trying to pressure you or anything. But I meant what I, you know, offered. Last night. I want to be yours. Not just physically." He raises their joined hand to his chest. "But here." He lifts their hands to his forehead. "Here."

"Yes," Data says happily, and kisses the extra-sensitive spot on Bruce's neck. "We are very good together."

"We are, even if your friends don't think so."

Data smiles against his lover's skin. "I appreciate that you are trying very hard to get along with Geordi, even if he keeps rebuffing your efforts. I think he will eventually come around."

"Well, La-- Geordi is a competent engineer. I have to give him that much. And I guess he loves you, so I suppose he can't be all bad."

Data laughs and spoons his lover closer. "Those are the nicest things you have ever said about Geordi."

Bruce's answering chuckle is cut off by a sudden yawn. "Mmm. I wish we could just stay in bed forever like this." He flaps a hand languidly. "You know. Not just sex. Us."

Data hesitates. There is something he has considered, but he had not wanted to rush things. Yet at this moment, it feels very right.

"I would like to mark you," Data says against the nape of Bruce's neck.

"What?" Bruce turns his head. "What do you mean, mark me?"

"A physical remembrance. Whenever I kiss or touch you there, it will be a reminder that you are mine."

"Oh. Yes. _Yes_."

"Listen first. Understand that I will not break your skin nor leave any permanent visible mark, but you will be marked nonetheless." He nuzzles at the side of Bruce's neck. "I would place it here. Do you consent?"

"Yes, Data. I consent."

Data closes his eyes, puts his mouth on the most sensitive spot on his lover's neck. He focuses his senses. The smell and taste of Bruce's skin are a faint yet intoxicating mix of soap underlaid by biochemicals: musk, sweat, pheromones. As Data sucks and bites, his teeth, lips and tongue register the pulsation of tiny capillaries under the surface, and the deeper throb of the larger circulatory system. Temperature. Galvanic skin response. The sound of Bruce's sensual little whimpers and soft encouragements. 

All of it floods through Data's chip and into his positronic relays, and even though he knows his lover is still in his refractory recovery, Data cannot wait. He surrenders to the urge to thrust deeper into his lover, even as his teeth sink a careful fraction deeper into his lover's skin. Sensation builds until everything whites out into pulse after pulse of ecstasy. 

They lie entangled close together afterwards, sleepily kissing and touching. 

By the time Bruce is able to start getting hard again, they are running short on time, but Data knows how to make it quick, just as he knows how to drag out his lover's pleasure for hours. Bruce's good leg over Data's shoulder; Data's hand tightly gripping his wrists; heated, possessive words whispered in his ear are all Data needs to make his submissive's eyes glaze over with endorphin rush. The hard, fast pace and finally a bite on the sensitive new love mark, has his lover's trembling body seizing up in ecstasy.

Data finds it gratifying that his fully sated lover is left nonverbal and nearly boneless, until he realizes the practical impact of the lethargy. Bruce keeps nodding off so Data has to half-carry him into the sonic shower. Afterwards, Data sits Bruce down and gives him first some fruit juice, and then a small coffee to stop his grumbling. Gently but firmly, Data gets his clothes on and combs his hair for him. 

He finally gets Bruce out the door. They are going to be late if they do not hurry.

***** 

Geordi is at the cafe fifteen minutes early. For Data's sake, he wants everything to go well. He is determined to be pleasant to Data's... ugh. To Maddox. 

It was bad enough dealing periodically with the jerk back when they didn't bother to disguise their mutual hatred, but since Geordi arrived on Galor IV, Maddox's smarmy attempts to be friendly have been even worse.

And then there's the creepy obsessive way he's always staring at Data.

Geordi forcefully puts Maddox out of mind. He doesn't want to think about him for a second longer than he has to.

While he waits, Geordi plays with his new cybernetic eyes, flipping back and forth between the electromagnetic spectrum he used to see with his VISOR, and the new 'natural vision' analogue provided by his implants. His new vision shows so much more of people's faces and expressions, yet it lacks the familiar biometric information like heart rate and body temperature. He does like the telescopic feature, though.

Geordi checks the time. It's nearly ten after and it's not like Data to be late for anything. He's about to comm Data when he sees them hurry in, and his hackles instantly rise. Maddox has his hand in Data's, and he's looking around at the other patrons like he wants to make sure everyone notices their entrance.

"Geordi!" Data says, sliding into his chair. "I am very sorry we are late."

"Hi, Geordi," Maddox says as he takes his own seat. "Sorry." 

The biometrics say he's lying.

Geordi doesn't miss Data's flash of disapproval, nor Maddox's smirking attempt at an innocent expression. 

Somehow, seen through Geordi's new human-analogue sight, Maddox's face is more punchable than ever. It wasn't the proudest moment of his life -- hitting a disabled person -- and Data had been furious with him, but damn, it had felt good to punch Maddox's stupid face. He'd like to do a few more times again, just for old times' sake. 

Then Data looks at him and Geordi can see the tension is upsetting him. Data just wants everyone to get along.

Geordi feels bad about his part in the tense atmosphere, but even though Deanna had vouched for Maddox's intentions towards Data, something about the guy has always rubbed Geordi the wrongest way. He's tried to explain it to Data before, but how do you explain an instant, deep visceral dislike?

As usual, Geordi decides the best solution available is to just ignore the man completely, and focus on Data. Maddox seems just as pleased to do the same. That gets them through ordering and eating their meal.

Still, it does get on Geordi's nerves that Maddox and Data keep touching hands and smiling besottedly at each other. Geordi tries his best to ignore it. Of course he knows they're sleeping together, but it doesn't need to be so damned obvious.

Please do not copy or repost without permission.  
Artist: [drawsmaddy](https://drawsmaddy.tumblr.com/)

While Geordi and Data talk about the surgery and how Geordi likes his new eyes, he notices Maddox is so bored that he starts to nod off. Data touches his shoulder and Maddox sits up straighter, blinking stupidly. 

Man, Geordi even hates the way Maddox blinks. 

Finally he switches his eyes back to the EM spectrum just so Maddox's face goes dark. It actually helps quite a bit, and he's able to get through the rest of brunch with relative ease.

Data asks Geordi if he would like to tour the arboretum with them, but Maddox bitches that he's had enough walking, and he'd rather just stay at the cafe and have more coffee. 

So Geordi says, yeah, of course he'll go check out the arboretum with Data. It'll be nice to have some time with his best friend. 

Especially since Geordi has been wanting to talk to Data alone about leaving Daystrom and heading out to the new _Enterprise-_ E. He's sure once he gets Data away from Maddox, things will naturally cool off and Data will get over this inappropriate new-chip crush. 

Honestly, it can't happen soon enough to suit Geordi.

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline (canon [fic]):  
> • 2370: _Descent II_. Lore is deactivated [and sent to the Daystrom annex for research]  
> • 2371: _Generations_. Data's newly installed emotion chip fuses into his neural net. [Data and Bruce begin a relationship after a disastrous shuttle accident on the way to the Daystrom annex]  
> • 2371 - 2373: at some point Geordi replaces his VISOR with cybernetic eyes  
> • 2372: Data and Geordi transfer aboard the new _Enterprise_ -E. War with the Borg and the Dominion looms.  
> • late 2373: _First Contact_


End file.
